


the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold

by lazyfish



Series: yellow flicker beat [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Episode: s01e22 Beginning of the End, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Three years ago, Lance Hunter parted ways with his soulmates. Now, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fallen, and they're all he can think about.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons
Series: yellow flicker beat [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1236347
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold

“Hey, it’s me again. I know I’ve already left like six voicemails but I’m really freaking out and none of you are answering your phones, so if you’re okay - just let me know. Bye.”

Hunter ended the call and resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room. His eyes flickered back to the television screen, where the news anchor was continuing to report on the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. by HYDRA. The footage of a helicarrier flying into a building was playing on loop in the corner of the screen, and Hunter was trying his best not to pay attention to it. He didn’t know where any of his soulmates were stationed, hadn’t even heard from them since they had left for S.H.I.E.L.D., really, but the possibility one of them could be injured - he refused to think of anything beyond that - was making him nauseous.

Or maybe that was all the pain pills he was on. The only reason he was watching the damn news in the first place was because he was in a hospital room and bored out of his mind. He had found out there was a real possibility his soulmates were in mortal danger because he was channel-surfing, and that was a new low.

Hunter turned his phone over in his hand, willing it to ring. He didn’t even know if he was listed under anyone’s emergency contracts anymore, if he would be told if one of them -

He took a deep, shaking breath to keep himself from going down that path. Fitz and Simmons and Bobbi were all lab rats. They were probably tucked away in a basement somewhere, out of harm’s way. It was naive to believe they were entirely safe, because their organization was being destroyed from the inside, but they probably weren’t fatally wounded. Probably.

He set the phone on the bedside table the hospital gave him and laid back against his pillows. He’d make another round of calls in the morning, and maybe then things would be settled enough and someone would pick up. He just had to be patient.

\---

Two days later, as he was preparing to leave the hospital, Hunter got a call from an unknown number. 

“‘Lo?”

“Hey, Hunter.”

_Oh, thank God._

“Hey, Bob.” The words caught in his throat and stuck there even when he swallowed hard. Part of Hunter wanted to make a snide comment about how it was nice of her to finally let him know she wasn’t _dead_ , but he couldn’t. “You alright?”

“A little bruised.” Bobbi huffed out a sigh. “Lance, honey… Fitz is in a coma.”

“What?” Hunter’s voice cracked. He fought back the wave of tears threatening to overwhelm him. “Where is he?”

“That’s -”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s classified!” Lance snapped before Bobbi could say the damning word. “Tell me where he is, Barbara.”

Bobbi sighed again, but she told him. That was all Hunter needed.

\---

A tense conversation with his superiors, a delayed flight, and an agonizing taxi ride later, Lance was in the lobby of the hospital and wondering if this was all a mistake. 

Jemma still hadn’t returned his calls, and he wondered if that was because she didn’t want to see him. Logic said that she was too preoccupied with Fitz’s situation to bother checking her voicemails, but… she hadn’t even called him to let him know what had happened. That was a pretty clear indication of how she felt about his presence.

But he couldn’t go home. He needed to see Fitz - and Jemma, too. He had assurance that Bobbi was alive and information on Fitz’s state, but Bobbi hadn’t mentioned Jemma. Hunter assumed after a tragedy on the scale S.H.I.E.L.D. suffered no news was good news, but it was unnerving not to be certain.

The receptionist at the front desk gave him directions to Fitz’s room, which made Hunter bristle slightly. Anyone could come in and the red carpet would be rolled out and - Hunter huffed. Maybe his nerves were making him a bit more agitated than usual. At least they had checked his duffel to make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous in it, so there was some sort of security.

The elevator ride was only three floors. Hunter spent every moment of it worrying. He should’ve prepared a speech to make to Jemma - about how much he had missed her, about how he had been stupid not to follow them to America in the first place, about how his life just wasn’t the same without the other parts of his soul - but all he could think of was how sweaty his palms were.

Two right turns later, Hunter was outside Fitz’s room. There was a curtain drawn over the window so Hunter couldn’t tell whether the lights were on or if anyone else was inside.

This was his last chance to bail out.

He sighed, tapped lightly on the door, and swung it open.

There was Jemma, hunched in the chair at Fitz’s bedside. She looked like she hadn’t showered or slept since S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen, and spent most of that time crying. All he wanted to do was hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright, but Hunter still couldn’t move. 

Fitz was lying on the hospital bed, attached to more machines than Hunter knew what to do with. His skin was ghostly pale and his hair was sticking up at odd angles and he just looked… wrong. It was one thing to know that Fitz was in a coma and another thing entirely to be confronted with it. The first breath Hunter took was painful, as was the one after, and the one after that.

“Who are you?”

He hadn’t even noticed the woman sitting in the corner, but her voice seemed to shock Jemma out of whatever stupor she was in.

“Lance?”

It had been so long since he had heard Jemma’s voice, and Hunter found himself unexpectedly choked. He nodded, dumbstruck. This was where the speech would’ve gone, if he had made himself think of one. Instead he just stared, watching as Jemma unfolded herself from her chair and made her way over to him in small, shuffling steps.

“Why did you come?” Jemma’s words were edged with iron, and Hunter swallowed hard.

“This is where I’m supposed to be.” There was no other way to explain the tug in his chest or how uncomfortable he had been until the moment he had set foot in the room. He was meant to be with the people he cared about, even if time and space had separated them for too long.

His palms were still too clammy.

Jemma looked him up and down. “Skye, could you give us a moment?”

The young woman in the corner nodded and slipped out of the room. She probably gave Jemma some sort of look, but Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off his soulmate long enough to check. 

“You shouldn’t have come.” Jemma crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at the floor.

“I thought you were _dead_ , Jemma, of course I had to come!” Hunter very pointedly didn’t mention that there was still a chance that Fitz -

 _Why_ couldn’t he stop thinking about dying?

“There have been research studies that when someone’s soulmate dies they can feel it.” Jemma looked up at him just long enough for Hunter to read everything behind her eyes - those research studies were what were keeping her holding onto hope for Fitz. If he was gone, really gone, they would’ve felt it.

“I didn’t know that.” Hunter had always made it abundantly clear he wasn’t an academic.

“Why do you think I do?!” 

Hold on -

“You would be informed if I was KIA. You’re still on my emergency forms.”

Jemma made a noise in the back of her throat halfway between frustration and pain. “Why?”

“Why are you still on my forms -”

“Why couldn’t you have just come with us?” Jemma interrupted. “If you were here...”

“None of this would’ve happened?” Hunter finished. He could take that. His presence over the last three years would’ve changed a lot - maybe even everything. A butterfly flapping its wings and all that.

“We were at the bottom of the ocean and he was telling me everything he didn’t get to say to you, and to Bobbi, and I -”

Finally, Jemma let go of all of the tears she had been holding onto. Hunter wasn’t sure whether he reached for her or she stumbled into his arms of her own accord, but the end result was the same: Jemma was crying into his chest, and he was hugging her close. He had failed to protect her from this hellhole they had fallen into, but now he was here.

“It’s not fair,” Jemma sputtered when her sobs had mostly subsided. 

“I know, sweetheart.” Hunter ran his fingers through her hair, separating the greasy strands. “It’s never fair.” He had seen enough of war to know.

“What do we do?” Her voice was muffled in his shirt.

“We’re going to go back to my hotel room. You’re going to take a shower and nap in a real bed instead of a hospital chair, and I’m going to call Bob.” Hunter hadn’t been surprised she wasn’t there, but he had been disappointed.

“B-but -”

“That girl, Skye, she’ll be okay alone with Fitz for a couple hours?” Jemma nodded. “Then we let her keep watch so you can feel human again, and she can tell us if anything changes.”

Jemma nuzzled deeper into his chest, pressing her entire face into him. “You’re very good at giving orders,” she muttered.

“I’ve had a bit of practice.” Hunter squeezed Jemma a bit tighter. “Ready to move out?”

“Yes, I suppose.” Jemma spent one moment more with her face buried in Hunter’s T shirt before withdrawing, her face red and puffy from her earlier crying. “I should tell Skye where we’re going.”

“You do that. I…” Hunter looked over Jemma’s shoulder to where Fitz was lying on the bed. 

“Yes, you should.” Jemma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be right outside.”

Letting go of Jemma was harder than he anticipated, but Hunter managed. He took up the seat Jemma had vacated. Fitz’s hand was on the edge of the bed, and it would be easy to grab it, but… Hunter wasn’t sure he wanted to hold Fitz’s hand if his soulmate couldn’t hold it in return.

Hunter had never really liked hospital rooms, but that was because he was always the one in them. Now he liked them even less, because they were lonely and depressing and suffocating and took all his words away. Hunter wanted to say something, in case Fitz was in there somewhere listening, but his throat had closed up again and he was afraid of crying. He couldn’t cry - he needed to be the strong one, for Jemma. 

The door to the room opened a minute later. Hunter still hadn’t said anything, but he felt a little better having focused on Fitz for a bit. Hunter brushed Fitz’s hair off his forehead and placed a gentle kiss there before rising from his seat. Jemma was waiting in the doorway for him, and Hunter went to join her. 

Jemma tucked herself into his side when he reached her, and the anchor of her weight against him was comforting. Skye brushed past them to sit at Fitz’s bedside.

They walked out of the hospital side by side.

\---

“Hunter?” Jemma poked her head out of the bathroom.

“Hm?” Hunter hummed, looking up from where he was unpacking his duffel.

“Can you… Will you shower with me?”

He blinked. That seemed like going from zero to one hundred quickly, but he was patently bad at saying no to Jemma even at the best of times. The circumstances made it even more difficult, so he nodded and abandoned his half-finished task.

The hotel bathroom was small, but not small enough that they couldn’t both fit. They undressed, Hunter avoiding looking at Jemma as much as possible. 

“What’s that?” Jemma, evidently, hadn’t avoided looking at him.

Hunter ran his finger over the row of stitches on his bicep - the reason he had been in the hospital when S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen. “I got shot.”

“You got shot,” Jemma repeated, voice hollow. Hunter risked a glance at her, trying to puzzle out what she was feeling. 

“I’m not sure if it helps if I say this isn’t the first time since we split.” 

“It doesn’t.” Jemma stepped forward, reaching for his injured arm. “Where else?”

“I’ll show you in the shower,” Hunter said, pulling them both into the shower in question and turning on the water. The spray started out cold, and Jemma flinched away from it. Even when it began to warm up, though, she seemed reluctant to let the water touch her, and Hunter frowned.

 _We were at the bottom of the ocean._ Of course. That was probably why Jemma had asked him to come in with her in the first place.

“Take a deep breath, Jems.” Hunter placed his hands on her shoulders, pressing down slightly. “Do you know where you are?”

“In the shower.”

“That’s right. You’re safe here.” He slid his hand back so their soulmate tattoos were pressed together, letting the warmth of the bond radiate out. “I’ll keep you safe.” Hunter had failed at that disastrously up until now, but he was going to do better. 

Jemma stepped under the shower, shivering slightly. Hunter kept his hand on her shoulder, the warmth of the connection heating up to an inferno the longer they stood together.

“Show me where you hurt,” Jemma whispered after several minutes, just barely louder than the sound of the pounding water.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Hunter rumbled in reply.

“But it did.”

“It did.”

“And you were alone.”

“I was.”

Jemma sighed, shutting her eyes. “We messed up.”

“I should’ve come with you,” Hunter agreed.

“We shouldn’t have done it in the way we did.” She tipped her head so it was laying against his shoulder. “We shouldn’t have let you go.”

“We can’t fix that, Jem. We can only pick where we go from here.”

Jemma sniffed. “Fitz -”

“Is going to be here, too,” Hunter finished firmly. “He’s not going to die before he gets to gloat to me about ManU winning over Liverpool twice last season.” It was hard to say it with as much conviction as he needed to, but Hunter managed. It was easier to say something that might be a lie if it made Jemma feel better.

“Bobbi…?”

“She was the one who told me what happened.” Hunter swallowed. “She still cares, Jem. She’s just rubbish at emotions when she doesn’t have anyone forcing her to talk about how she feels.” Hunter ran his hands through Jemma’s wet hair again, unsure of whether the gesture was to soothe her or him. 

Jemma leaned back again, meeting Hunter’s eyes. “Show me where you hurt,” she repeated.

“I already told you, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” Hunter rested his forehead against Jemma’s, reaching the hand not pressed to her mark so he could tangle their fingers together. “Nothing hurts when I’m with you.”

He didn’t expect the kiss, but it certainly wasn’t unwanted. Jemma’s lips were chapped and colder than usual, but she was still his Jemma. As second first kisses went, it was an absolutely brilliant - soft and sweet and longing, the perfect reflection of their reunion after years of separation.

“Show me anyways,” she mumbled against his lips. “Please.”

He couldn’t say no to her. They stood together until the shower ran cold as he catalogued each and every injury he had received while they were apart, and she did the same. They exchanged kisses all the while, some soft and others hard and all of them overflowing with the words they couldn’t manage yet.

At the end of it all, only one thing had changed: they were okay again.

\---

The return to the hospital wasn’t as triumphant as Hunter had hoped. Bobbi hadn’t answered any of his calls, and Hunter was debating if it was worth the effort to track her down and physically drag her into the hospital. The longer he thought about it the better the idea seemed.

The good thing was Jemma looked much better. She had taken a nap after their shower and changed her clothes, both of which seemed to have brightened her mood. (Hunter was trying not to be too pleased about how comfortable looked in his sweats and tank top.)

When they returned to the hospital room, Skye was there - but so were two other people Hunter didn’t recognize. He halted in the doorway, eyeing them both warily. 

“Hunter, these are Agents May and Coulson. Sir, Agent May, this is Lance Hunter.” Jemma introduced them quickly, tugging Hunter closer to her. He was more than happy to oblige - the woman, Agent May seemed to glare at him less when he was close to Jemma.

“I’m not going to ask how he knew where we are.” The man, Agent Coulson, pinched the bridge of his nose. “And we’re not agents anymore, Jemma.” 

“Are you going to tell us who he is?” May asked in a calm, measured voice.

“I already told you, he’s -”

“Not what I meant, Simmons.” 

“Well, you see, Hunter is… Mine and Fitz’s soulmate.”

From the various reactions - May’s slow blink, Coulson’s twisted mouth, and Skye’s dropped jaw - it was obvious he hadn’t even come up once in their conversations. Hunter tried not to let that sting, electing instead to step even closer to Jemma. He was practically on top of her at that point, but the proximity seemed to be good for both of them.

“We dated for two years, but when Fitz and Bobbi and I left for S.H.I.E.L.D., Hunter stayed in the UK for his work.”

“Bobbi?” Skye repeated.

“Our other soulmate. There’s four of us.”

“You had two other soulmates and you didn’t tell me?” Skye was obviously trying her best to hide her hurt, but she looked like a kicked puppy.

“We…” Jemma began, then trailed off.

“I made it clear the end was the end,” Hunter finished. “Soul marks aren’t everything and Fitzsimmons were trying to move on from theirs. It’s not a crime.” That wasn’t the entire truth, but Hunter could handle Skye being mad at him much better than Skye being mad at Jemma.

“They did a really great job moving on if you showed up again,” Skye snapped.

“I would’ve come even if Fitz wasn’t my soulmate.” Hunter struggled to keep his voice calm. “I care about him. Him and Jemma both.”

“So you get to ignore them for - how long were you split up for?”

“Three years,” Jemma answered meekly.

“Right. So you get to ignore them for three years and then just barge back in because Fitz is -” Skye didn’t finish her sentence. “Whatever. I’m going.”

She breezed out of the hospital room, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel bad for her. He’d be right pissed if one of his friends announced they had two secret soulmates, too. The circumstances didn’t make things much better.

Speaking of the circumstances… 

“Sit.” Jemma pulled them towards the chair and Hunter sank into it without thinking. She arranged herself on top of him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and pulling her knees up. Memories whispered around him, all of the times she had curled up on top of him on the sofa while the four of them watched the movies together, all the times Jemma had sat in his lap just because he was there and she wanted to.

She still used the same shampoo, and the scent of it managed to take the edge off the reek of antiseptic in the hospital room. 

“We’ll be back with dinner later,” May said. Hunter’s eyes had slid to Fitz’s face, and he didn’t look up when she spoke. Jemma nodded minutely.

The door closed behind May and Coulson, and then it was just the three of them in the room.

Jemma seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Bobbi’s not coming, is she?”

“She will.” Hunter turned to kiss the top of Jemma’s head. “You know her.” Like he had told Jemma earlier, Bobbi wasn’t good with emotions, but she wasn’t going to be able to ignore Fitz being on his deathbed and Jemma needing her. That had been how Hunter ended his string of voicemails - _Jemma needs you._

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You don’t need to be. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t,” Jemma whispered, pressing her nose into his collarbone. 

“We don’t have time to be sorry anymore, Jem,” Hunter said. “I know we can’t forget the last three years, but I don’t want to… I can’t think about all the time with you I lost.” He looked over at Fitz again, still so small and pale and unmoving. Hunter wasn’t going to go asking questions about what happened when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, but there was nothing in his life that compared to the forty-eight hours when he was faced with the reality of being without the three people he needed most in the world.

“Okay.” She kissed the joint of his neck and shoulder softly.

They lapsed into silence, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. They were just two people, together, waiting for the world to make sense.

\---

He must’ve drifted off sometime during his vigil, because his cell ringing woke Hunter up. Bobbi’s name flashed across the screen, and that was enough to take him from half-conscious to hyperalert. 

Jemma was asleep on his shoulder, and Hunter winced as he peeled her off of him. She needed as much sleep as she could get and he didn’t want to wake her by taking the phone call.

Hunter was halfway to the door when he realized Skye was there too, glaring daggers at him. He didn’t acknowledge her, slipping into the hallway instead to take the call.

“Bob?”

“I’m getting on a plane now,” Bobbi said without preamble. “Thought you should know.”

“Do you want me to pick you up at the airport?” Hunter didn’t have a car, but he could get one. Butterflies beat in his stomach, one step short of making him feel ill. Bobbi was coming back, and then they’d all be together, and then… and then what?

“No, stay with Jemma.” Static crackled over the line. “Thanks for being so fucking stubborn, Hunter.”

“Any time, sweetheart.” He smiled. “See you soon?”

“Soon, yeah.” Bobbi exhaled, creating another rush of static. “Gotta go. We’re taking off.”

“Bye, Bob.”

He ended the call right as a bleary-looking Jemma emerged from Fitz’s room.

“Thought you left,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“No, I just didn’t want to wake you.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a half-hug, kissing the crown of her head. “Bob called. She’s on her way.”

“You told me so.” Jemma looked up at Hunter with big brown eyes. “I’m glad you were right.”

“Me too.” Hunter glanced at the digital clock on the wall, balking at the time. It was just past two in the morning. “Back to sleep?”

Jemma shook her head. “I can’t believe I fell asleep in the first place.”

“What can I say? I’m comfortable.” Hunter grinned at her, and Jemma smiled up at him sleepily. 

“Missed falling asleep on you.”

Hunter snorted. “Of all of the things to miss, Simmons, you picked me being a pillow?”

“Among other things, yes.” Jemma returned to nuzzling into his chest. “‘M sleepy, don’t be mean.”

“Yes ma’am, Miss Simmons.” It was only when his stomach growled that Hunter realized something. “We slept through May and Coulson bringing dinner.”

Jemma frowned. “We did.”

“Are you hungry?”

“The cafeteria’s closed.” Of course Jemma would know that detail.

“Not what I asked.”

“Yes, a little.”

“I can go pick something up?” Hunter loathed to leave Jemma - especially when Bobbi had just commanded him to stay with her - but he wanted more for her to be alright. Cajoling her into a nap and a shower hadn’t been hard, and it didn’t seem like getting her to eat would be hard either, but in general it appeared that Jemma wouldn’t think to do those things herself.

“Okay.” Jemma sniffled a little. “I’ll miss my pillow.”

“I’m coming back.” He kissed her hair. “Promise.”

“Pinkie swear?”

Hunter hooked his pinkie through Jemma’s. “Pinkie swear.”

\---

Jemma was asleep again when Hunter returned with a greasy bag of fast food.

He nudged her awake to give her the chicken nuggets and fries she had requested, and then nudged a large cup full of Sprite into her hand.

“Skye? Macca’s?” Hunter asked, extending the bag in the woman’s direction. He had gotten extra food just in case she wanted some, and if she didn’t accept his olive branch… well, more for him.

Skye took a burger out of the bag, eyeing him suspiciously before unwrapping it.

“Coulson would be so pissed we’re eating dinner at three in the morning,” Skye said around the mouthful of food.

“Coulson would be pissed we’re eating Macca’s,” Jemma added.

Wonderful. Apparently even in his efforts to be a good person he was pissing someone off.

They ate quietly, until Skye broke the silence. “So what do you do?” Her question was obviously directed at Hunter.

“Uh, British Air Force. But I don’t expect that’ll stick much longer.” Jemma stiffened next to him, but Hunter kept his focus on Skye.

“And why do you think you’re good enough for Fitzsimmons?”

“Skye!”

“No, Jem, it’s fine.” Hunter blew out a long, slow breath. “Honestly? I don’t reckon I’m good enough for them. And part of the reason we… part of the reason I left is because I didn’t believe they’d be with me if it weren’t for these.” He splayed out his hands so she could see the words written on his palms. 

“Hunter…” 

He ignored Jemma’s whisper, continuing on. “But all this has made me realize I belong where they are. Because even after all the time we spent apart, living in a world without them in it… the thought of it makes me feel sick. Wrong.” He glanced over at Jemma. “It hurts.”

And there were his cards on the table. Coming clean without Bobbi to hear it, and with Fitz there but not able to process what he was saying, felt strange. 

Jemma leaned against him, her warmth sliding through him. “We should talk,” she murmured.

They would talk, eventually. Skye seemed to have accepted his answer, though, and they returned to their food and their vigil in silence.

\---

The door to the room banged open. Agent May was on her feet first, but Hunter was quick to follow. Unlike May, though, he didn’t have a gun to point at the intruder. Also unlike May, he recognized her.

Bobbi didn’t seem to care about him, though - she only had eyes for Jemma.

Jemma was equally single-minded, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel he was intruding on something private when he watched Jemma crash into Bobbi’s arms. They didn’t kiss, but they didn’t have to for the moment to choke Hunter with its intimacy. He thought he was Jemma’s lifeline, but she was clinging onto Bobbi like Hunter had never seen her cling before.

The marks on the palms of his hands itched.

“That’s Bobbi?” Skye asked under her breath.

Hunter nodded.

“She’s hot.”

The half-snort, half-laugh Hunter made was enough to break whatever spell had come over Bobbi and Jemma, and they both turned to look at him.

“Gonna join us?” Bobbi asked after a beat.

Skye shoved him forward when he continued to stand, frozen, and Hunter couldn’t have been more grateful for her.

Bobbi engulfed him in a hug, quickly followed by Jemma. Hunter couldn’t guess how long the three of them stood there, just holding onto each other. When it was over his feet were numb, though, so he guessed it was a long, long time.

“I did some reading on the plane,” Bobbi said when she withdrew from him. “And you are in so, _so_ much trouble.”

Hunter blinked, confused.

“I know what happened in Harare. And Okazaki. And Tehran.”

He paled.

“What -?”

“Trust me,” Bobbi said, cutting Jemma off. “You don’t want to know.”

\---

It was surprisingly easy for the three of them to fall back into a routine, almost like the last three years had just… disappeared. Hunter knew it was naive of him to believe anything was that simple, but right now, they all needed simple. They were all at their greatest emotional limits without adding a discussion of the breakup on top of the pile.

They moved as a unit - him and Jemma and Bobbi. The only time they separated was so one person could get food or go to the bathroom. Otherwise, it was always the three of them. It wasn’t fair to leave one person alone with Fitz while the other slept, so they crammed themselves into the hotel bed together, and together they warded off the nightmares.

A few times, Hunter was certain Bobbi was going to interrogate him further about the work he had done for the SAS while they were apart. She seemed to have made some realizations - realizations he was doing his best to keep hidden from Jemma until everything was a bit more stable.

The only time they came close to talking about it, only the three of them were in the room. Jemma was barely awake, but Hunter couldn’t shake the nagging feeling something was wrong.

Bobbi seemed to sense his distress and reached out, her hand curving around the back of his neck. “Okay?”

He shrugged. Nothing was really _okay_ , not anymore.

“If you got hurt, would anyone have called me?” he asked into the darkness.

Bobbi shifted in her seat, then stood. Hunter was almost sure she was going to walk out. Instead she straddled his lap, kneeling instead of sitting on him entirely. She leaned forward until her forehead was pressed against his, their noses knocking together. 

“You would’ve known.”

“And if you…?”

“I don’t think it’s fair of you to ask that question, all things considered.” Her fingers trailed along his jawline, and Hunter wrapped his hand around hers.

“I was just doing my job.”

“And I was just doing mine.” Bobbi exhaled. “I need you alive, Hunter. _We_ need you alive.”

“I’m not -”

“I know,” she whispered, cutting him off. “But please. For me. Don’t die out there.”

He kissed her carefully, all the words he couldn’t say spilling into the space between them. He wasn’t much good at promises, but he was good at kissing, and even better at holding Bobbi close.

\---

“It’s been nine days.”

Hunter reached for Jemma on instinct, drawing her close to him. Bobbi laid her hand across Jemma’s knee, careful yet reassuring.

“The doctors say his brain waves are getting better. It could be any day now.”

Jemma lolled her head against Bobbi’s shoulder, letting out a sigh. Hunter knew how she was feeling. _Any day now_ had been their mantra for the last week, and it seemed more and more impossible with each passing day Fitz would actually wake up.

But he had to.

\---

It was like the movies, but also nothing like the movies. His eyes fluttered open, then closed. Open, then closed. Fitz crept back to consciousness inch by perilous inch, and when he finally woke up for real, the three of them were waiting.

“Hi, Fitz.” Jemma spoke first. “I found some people for you while you were asleep.”

Fitz couldn’t make his mouth move into a smile, but Hunter could see it in his eyes - amusement at the joke, but also… joy. Joy they were there, Hunter hoped.

It could have been climactic, but there was so much in the way - tubes and medicine and doctors trying to get Fitz sorted out. When everything was said and done Fitz was back asleep, tired out from even his short time in the waking world. But this time, there was no worry he wouldn’t wake up.

\---

The day they left the hospital was breezy, edging on the side of too cold to be comfortable. It didn't matter to Hunter, though, because the four of them were actually _leaving_. Fitz was in a wheelchair and they were going to have to return so he could complete some physical therapy, but it was so, so much better than what they had two weeks ago.

Hunter was still brutally aware of everything there was left to heal, both with Fitz and with their relationships, but the sky was blue and he had his people with him for the first time in three years. 

The future could wait a little longer.


End file.
